


Out of sight

by platinumnib



Category: Nightwish
Genre: F/F, Floorja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-17
Updated: 2017-02-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 04:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9802802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/platinumnib/pseuds/platinumnib
Summary: There’s just one thing still tying Tarja to Nightwish.





	

Ever Dream was last. Tarja listened, mouthing the lyrics she hadn’t forgotten in over a decade. Then the crowd cheered as it always did and she couldn’t help but think some of it was her crowd, the same people she had once sung those words for, and she felt robbed of something. But, she chastised herself, it was okay as long as it was Floor. She couldn’t hold anything against her.  
She waited for some time, near the band members’ dressing rooms but far enough so they didn’t see her when they first went backstage, throwing around a liberal amount of high-fives and cheers of their own.

Each went to his dressing room, then all except the singer came back out in jeans and tees after about twenty minutes. Only then did Emppu notice her presence.

“Tarja?”

She breathed out a sigh of slight relief. There was nothing displeasurable in his voice at all, just astonishment. Maybe he was even the smallest bit glad to see her or was she only being optimistic? 

“Emppu,” she smiled at him. “I’ll be right on my way, I just came to pick something-”

He was on her before she could finish, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I haven’t seen you in ten years, girl! Were have you been?”

She hugged back.

“Singing my own songs and some of ours… It’s nice seeing you too.”

Over his shoulder, she saw Tuomas closing on them and she let go of him.

“Why are you here?” he spat out in form of greeting. “We don’t have room for strays and waifs.”

A long time prior, she had decided to ignore him if ever they came face to face again, and so she did. He was still his pompous, hollow self hiding behind good manners he dropped once the cameras were gone. That and a terrible, terrible what-she-thought-was-love story.

“Why the hell are you here?” he asked once again. “Still haven’t found a home?”

His voice alone was starting to hurt her. She looked beyond him at the tall silhouette coming out of a side door. She’d taken longer to shower and change because she was not in jeans and t-shirt. No, she was dressed for an evening out with a dark cocktail dress, her eyelids and lashes were blackened , all her locks cascaded down one shoulder and she was glorious to look at.

Floor froze on the spot when she saw who was waiting for her. The band didn’t know; she couldn’t let the band know about her and Tarja.

But Tarja strolled past the band to her girlfriend and tenderly cradled her jaw in preparation for the inevitable, each of the men drawing a sharp breath.  
Their lips joined, and suddenly she didn’t give a damn if they knew.  
It felt for a second as if the entire venue had gone silent, only leaving their longing sighs to be heard as neither of them dared to let go. Floor was so warm and welcoming, and Tarja’s commanding hands wouldn’t brook any holding back. Ending the kiss seemed the worst thing to do.

They only broke apart when all their breath had been spent and Floor’s lips opened up into a broad and delightful smile as their surroundings came back into focus.

Marco just leant on the wall with his arms crossed, trying to hide his feelings behind his usual unsettling glare. As for Erno, he had first suspected something when an attempt at a relationship by Tuomas had ended in a firm but completely unexplained refusal. Now he knew for sure the big lady was no straighter than a corkscrew, he was rightfully laughing his ass off.

“I think you two should go before he finds a weapon,” he said, out of breath and pointing at the keyboardist.

Tuomas looked as if he were about to either throw up in disgust or fibrillate from the shock, but he did neither. Rather, he narrowed his eyes at Tarja after regaining some semblance of composure and let out a sentence that sounded trying to get out.

“You’re going out with her?”

Every word oozed despise and contempt, but Tarja could guess it was only there to hide the hurt. She tried not to feel good about his jealousy, she fought to have no feeling whatsoever that had anything to do with him, but failed. She was happy that he felt scorned, that he felt the way she’d felt all those years prior.

“I’m going out with her.”

“And you’d rather have her than me?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!” Floor stepped in, eyes suddenly fiery and hands clenched into fists.

“It’s not the first time, he’ll learn to deal with it,” Tarja stopped her from arguing further and dismissed him. “Come on, love, don’t forget we have reservations.”

And she took her by the hand. While she walked away, she heard a rich chuckle that could only come from the hobbit, the only one still inclined to laughter.

“Grab a drink sometime, Tarja!”

She waved at him without looking back, making a mental note of the offer he had made. Her girlfriend aside, Emppu was the only one she’d missed.

The cool wind outside blew away most of the negativity still clinging to her. It hadn’t exactly been a pleasant homecoming, but how could it be knowing how they’d parted ways in the first place? She found herself thinking back to the day when Tuomas and Marco had sat in front of her with a long list of things they no longer liked about her, chief among them being the failure of a relationship she’d had with the keyboardist, but somehow that hadn’t been mentioned.

Floor enveloped Tarja tight in her arms and kissed the top of her head in a sudden surge of fondness, pulling her back to reality.

“My god, I missed you so bad, Tarja!”

Too stunned to react at first, she buried her head under Floor’s chin with a smile and slowly wrapped her arms around her warm body.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

She too had been longing for the time of their reunion; the previous two years had been nothing short of torture. But now, everything was right; they were together, to live some more and make some new memories for them both to cherish… at least until their careers would send them once more into two lonely hotel room beds half a world apart where there was no lover to be held at night but many intimate moments to be dreamt of.

“What do you want to do after dinner?” Tarja asked.

“You, honey, not just once.”


End file.
